My dress didn’t have sequins. It looked like the whorehouse version that should layer under that dress. “You’re not getting married anymore, remember?”
She sighed heavily. “What a waste of a dress. I wish I’d worn the other one. It would have been so pretty.”
The other one was the opera lingerie one. It had a matching bridesmaid dress that wasn’t even legal it was so see-through. Thank God it was in the limo or at the chapel because I talked Allie into trying these on first.
Not that the wedding gown she’d picked to match that abomination was much better. Her alternate dress was completely sheer with a keyhole window that touched her bellybutton. If not for all the off the shoulder bodice ruffles and its numerous flower appliqués, it would be indecent even for Vegas.
Ellie spun in a circle and mused, “They’re both cursed now.” She fluffed the train so it fell in a perfect little curve at her feet.
“They can’t be cursed because you didn’t get married in them.” When would that driver get here? I checked my phone to discover the little icon of the car was still idling two blocks away. Were we supposed to go there? No, the hotel was very clear that ride shares could not pick people up on the Strip. That made logistical sense, so I didn’t question it.
“I’m going back to change.”
“No!” I grabbed her arm and begged her to stay still. “We’re just going to go to the chapel, get the deposit back, and pick up our things, then we can change, or whatever you want, but please don’t leave me here alone.” And please don’t make me hunt you down again.
“Oh Allie, you gotta lighten up. The world is an okay place. Live a little for a change. I swear you believe everyone is out to murder you.”
Tell that to the homeless guy sleeping on the bench across the street.
Wait, if he was sleeping, that meant he was safe, so… was Ellie technically right? I pondered that for a half-second. “I know you think it’s safe, it’s just that I want to stick together, okay?” So you don’t do something stupid like spend your entire trust fund on a spare-no-expense wedding excursion with nothing to show for it. I gritted out a smile that I hoped was kind.
“Your face is going to stick that way.” She tossed her perfectly styled hair back. “We could take the monorail. That sounds like fun.”
“It stops running at midnight, and only goes halfway there.” I’d checked the schedule and route five times.
Ellie, being enamored with all things cursed, chose midnight of February 13 to get married. Although technically I guess the “I-do’s” would be on Valentine’s Day, right? Another thing I put off pondering until I shut down this shit show carnival ride. There would be no Valentine’s Day or Valentine’s Day-eve wedding.
“Oh. No monorail. Okay. I’m going back to the hotel. Allie, do you worst with the deposit. Whatever you keep is yours. Here’s the plane tickets, the license, everything. I don’t care anymore.” She handed off my carefully compiled binder.
“Ellie, no. We’re going to Italy tomorrow…together, remember?” I’d talked her into it after she announced the wedding was off. I needed the license and the chapel information but shoved the plane tickets back in her hand so she’d have something tangible to remind her not to go on another bender. “Hang onto these for me.”
My drunk sister stared at the night sky. “Fuck. The very last thing I want to do is fly right now.”
The flight was hours from now. But I couldn’t tell her that. “Ellie, please? Just stay with me. It won’t take long, I promise.” As soon as she offered the ticket change, I jumped. I needed something to get my mind off my unemployment situation. And Italy? That was a fantastical dream of mine. It was maybe even a guilty little secret ambition I’d harbored ever since one of the FBI neighbors let slip that my jaja was in the mob. I just knew once I landed in Italy, I’d be revered as the mafia princess I was born to be. I had such an imagination at six.
I should have known Pulaski was not an Italian surname.
Ellie squared up in front of me. “Big sis, I love you, but here’s the deal, I’m drunk and starting to get sober. Your idea of something not taking long and mine are two completely different things. If we have any chance at all of pulling off this fake honeymoon excursion together, I need sleep. And I’ll even sweeten the deal. I’ll go back to the hotel to pack the rest of our stuff and sleep this off. Someone has to, otherwise we'll be up all night. So, let me do that. Then we’ll ride to the airport in the morning as early as you want.”
I hesitated.
“I know you think I can’t pack.”
She couldn’t. At least not effectively. Ellie had a tendency to pack by clothing type. Which meant she could have one whole bag only filled with swimsuits. What if the other bags got lost?
She rushed on, oblivious to my thoughts. “And I know you had to chase me down this afternoon, but I vow, I won’t do anything stupid now. Trust me.”
“You’ll pack everything?”
She stared at me with that look on her face I’d grown to dread. Like I’d kicked her puppy.
“Allie, I can do this. I just have to get back to the hotel, pack all the shit in the room, zonk out until you get back, then you’ll take over, and we’re golden.”
Well, that was a solid enough start. When did she become the planner?
“Sounds good,” I quickly said before she could change her mind.
As she stumbled away, I heard her say, “Cursed. This dress is cursed. Such a shame. I look hot in it.”
